


Spice it up

by tomoewantsdolls



Series: Drarryland 2019 [7]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Auror Draco Malfoy, Auror Harry Potter, Auror Partners, Drabble, Drarryland: A Drarry Game/Fest, Fluff, Food, M/M, POV Ron Weasley, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-28
Updated: 2019-03-28
Packaged: 2019-12-25 20:43:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18269030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tomoewantsdolls/pseuds/tomoewantsdolls
Summary: “I don’t think your partner here can handle all those spices.”Malfoy scoffed. “Speak for yourself Weasel. I can handle it well enough, thank you.”





	Spice it up

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: "Harry likes his food spicy. Draco won't admit he can't take the heat. From another character's POV. Minimum: 267 words - Maximum: 833 words."
> 
> Thanks originalobjecttheorist for the beta! (any remaining mistake is my fault and mine alone)

It’s a Saturday night, they’re all in their early 20s and they were spending it studying old files and cold cases. Bummer.

“Weasley, that’s stupid. There is no possibility that the potioneer assistant had adulterated his boss’ powdered asphodel root stock with the unidentified poison without the man noticing. He was an expert potioneer! Am I right, Malfoy?”

Ron wanted to strangle his idiot partner. Ernie McMillan was a pain in the arse at best and a nuisance… all the time. And he thought it was Harry who drew the short posh straw with Malfoy…

“Don’t get me involved,” said the poncy git. “I am well past my capacity to run without food.”

“Let’s order Indian, then.” Harry chimed in cheerfully. Malfoy’s glare could have stopped a mandrake mid scream.

“I don’t think your partner here can handle all those spices.”

Malfoy scoffed. “Speak for yourself Weasel. I can handle it well enough, thank you.”

“Ah, is that so?” Ron could spot a challenge from afar. He looked at his friend with a half smile and spoke with solemnity. “You choose the menu, Harry. I’ll pick the drinks.”

Half an hour later they were sitting at the table. Well. The three of them at least. Ernie was hopeless and had fallen asleep just before the food arrived. More for them anyway.

“What is this?” asked Malfoy looking at the little round ball as if it was an especially uncooperative suspect.

Harry was happy to provide the information. “It's an onion pakora.  They are not very spicy, you should start with it and the dum aloo. This is biryani and this a samosa. Oh, and you maybe should avoid the chicken jalfrezi.”

“Nonsense, I can handle it.” He said eating the pakora.

To Ron’s delight he didn't have to wait long: as expected the git brightened like a light bulb.

Ron sniggered. “You ok, Malfoy?”

“Sure.” He said trying to suppress a coughing fit. The prat waited until Harry wasn’t looking to drink a mouthful of wine.

“Mmmm, this is delicious,” said Harry around a samosa. Ron took one for himself and it was, certainly. Not. Ok. His taste buds screamed in unison and he took a bite of bread to try to ease the burning sensation. Merlin, he was going to avoid the jalfrezi for sure.

After the second bite of the biryani he decided to go for a  glass of milk, bread and wine weren't enough to appease his tongue any more. He should have known better, because he almost missed the moment Malfoy lost his dignity and started to wail and cry.

“Oh gosh, did you try the jalfrezi? I told you not to!” Harry was desperate to help but someone who had a high tolerance level as him couldn't understand the struggle of the average British dude.

“I think he’s dying.” Harry’s glare could have wilted the silenced mandrake. Ron raised his hands in mock surrender.

“You utter prat,” at least Malfoy hadn’t lost his voice, but he sounded raspy. “You could make yourself useful and bring me some water, you useless pri…”

“ _Aguamenti_.” The conjured water poured from Ron’s wand, leaving a speechless and soaking Malfoy gulping like a goldfish, Harry jumped barely avoiding the flood and Ernie jolted awake and looked at them in confusion.

“What was that for?” Malfoy screamed. But Ron wasn’t paying attention to him, he was staring at Harry, who seem frozen on the spot looking red as a tomato towards the git’s clingy shirt.

Oh, Merlin and Morgana both.

He hurried to cast the charm Hermione taught him and dried Malfoy's clothes with a brusque stream of hot air. The resultant disheveled state did nothing to divert his friend’s attention, whose ears were now matching his face.

Then it was chaos. Food forgotten, Malfoy kept yelling at his attempts of covering him with the sofa’s Afghan, Ernie kept repeating _wh’t’s h’pening_ , the alarm in his tone increasing each time and Harry… Harry was now the hopeless one.


End file.
